


Symphony Of Dissonance

by Zopno



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Angst, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hate Sex, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Infidelity, M/M, POV Draco Malfoy, POV First Person, Rough Sex, Top Harry Potter, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-08 20:56:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20841893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zopno/pseuds/Zopno
Summary: Sing for me; your sin for me, and I'll dance it out.They take and take. Until it’s all gone and you’re left with a void, and it fills with all of those emotions. The ones that won’t go away.So you turn it on me.And I take it.I want it.Those feelings, they sing inside me, too.A melody buried deep under our skin.





	Symphony Of Dissonance

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all!  
Please read the tags before the fic! There are no _graphic_ depictions of violence, but there is some violence and implied infidelity, so if you're not into that you probably won't like this. If you're into angst on the other hand, you probably will.  
Please let me know if I've missed anything that should be tagged.
> 
> BIG thanks to my lovely beta [Dracoismytrashson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JGogoboots/pseuds/dracoismytrashson). You're amazing! 
> 
> _Sing for me, your sin for me, and I'll dance it out."_ Masuda Takahisa ~ Symphony of Dissonance.

I can taste it on you.

_ Harry Potter. _

The boy who lived— who gave his life for everyone. Even now that the war is over, you pour all of your kindness, love, and happiness into everyone else.

But that leaves none of that for you.

Anger.

Hate.

Sadness.

Frustration. 

Resentment. 

Disdain.

Terror.

Pain.

_ Rage. _

That’s what you’re left with, and there’s no escape. You can’t show them. They take and  _ take. _ Until it’s all gone and you’re left with a void, and it fills with all of those emotions. The ones that won’t go away. 

So you turn it on me.

And I take it.

I  _ want  _ it. 

Those feelings, they sing inside me, too.

A melody buried deep under our skin.

_ Sing for me; your sin for me, and I’ll dance it out _

You don’t have an appetite. Granger and the Weasel don’t notice. 

No one else does. 

I can feel it. 

Ribs that protrude slightly too much, the way your cheekbones feel sharp under my hands, the fact that I can rest my chin in the hollow above your collarbone; I know you’re not eating. They don’t care enough to notice. 

Granger talks endlessly next to you, hands flying everywhere while Weasley stuffs his face. Even your  _ girlfriend _ pays you no attention. You don’t engage them, just stare at your toast sitting untouched on your plate. When Granger turns and addresses you, you look to her, a big smile on your face, and reply. As soon as she stops talking to you, the smile falls from your face. 

That expression you wear; it’s what’s left once they take it all from you, but as your eyes meet mine across the hall... it changes.

Singing inside you, the void rears and takes over. I feel it. Your face contorting as the rage washes over you, clenched jaw, brows furrowed, eyes narrowed. I see it. I can tell it’s been a bad day—worse than usual. I know you’ll find me later. It’ll be rough. 

_ It’s okay, Harry. I’ll be waiting. _

_ Sing for me; your sin for me, and I’ll dance it out _

My shoulder stings under your teeth, and I grip your arm harder. You’ll surely have deep imprints of my nails there, just like the marks your teeth will leave on my skin.

Wordlessly, you pin me against the wall and start to pour all those emotions into me. It’s not like we ever talk though; moans and grunts, sure— but not  _ once _ have we said anything. 

_ Would you stop if I asked? If I pushed you away? _

Every thrust has my head hitting the wall. It hurts, but that’s okay. I want it to. You don’t touch me— you rarely do; but when you do it’s like the world stops— so I wrap my hand around my own erection, pump in time with your thrusts. Removing your teeth from my shoulder and pulling back, you look at me. 

You’re taking the emotions from the void that consumes you and emptying them into me. The rage, I taste it. Our lips haven’t touched, but I can still taste it. It’s in the air, on your skin, burning in your eyes; I can see you’re close to finishing.

I know that if you finish before me, you’ll just leave… so I try to catch you, picking up my pace and chasing, chasing. When that happens, that darkness you’ve poured into me clings and won't leave. 

But I’m too slow, and you sink your teeth back into me as your orgasm rips through you, filling me up. I’m close but not close enough. Pulling out, you clean yourself off and pull up your trousers. 

_ Don’t leave. _

If you’re here, even just in the room... it’s not so bad. I should have been faster, I know this. 

Turning to go, you hesitate, take a big breath and turn back to me. 

_ Harry, you’ve never done this. _

_ Have I done something wrong? _

Leaning in, you replace my hand with your own. It’s rough and fast; impatient, but your hands around me drive me insane, and my orgasm slams into me. We meet eyes, and you reach out. Are you going to pull me in? A kiss? A hug? 

None of that.

You wipe your hand on my shirt and stand up, then turn and leave. 

After sitting for a minute, I grab my wand and clean the cum off my shirt and legs.

_ Why? _

_ Sing for me; your sin for me, and I’ll dance it out _

I need this more than you today. The look you give me tells me you know. Rage and despair bubble inside me. It screeches and writhes around. The stinging curses left large patches of raw skin on my back. My robes hurt just brushing over them. I wanted to hex them to high hell—be the awful person they say I am. To hold them down, hand on their neck until they can no longer breathe. Until I see the life leave their eyes.

_ What would you think of me then? _

_ Would you still come around? _

But I can’t do that. 

So I do the next best thing. 

As we pass in the corridor, I step into your way, slamming my shoulder into you hard, and you yelp, stumbling backwards, and actually fall over onto the ground. Anger burns across your face, and I smirk. 

“HEY!” Granger shouts, but I don’t take my eyes off you.  _ She _ isn’t the one who deserves my attention. 

“Watch where you’re going, Potter,” I say, and as I walk past, I make sure to stand on your fingers. Shrieking in pain, you go to grab me, but I step out of reach just in time.

“Fuck you, Malfoy,” you practically screech from behind me. I can hear the same rage in your voice that’s burning inside of me.

_ That’s exactly what I want you to do. _

_ Sing for me; your sin for me, and I’ll dance it out _

Your hand on the back of my head, you press me into the desk, my nose pushing painfully into it every time you slam into me. Trapped underneath my torso, I can’t reach my hand any farther down. Cock begging for attention that I can’t give it, I grip the table with my other hand. If I don’t, I’ll fall off. 

Is it like this because you know I need it today?

Or because I stood on your hand? 

We started without much preparation, and it is still painful. It’ll hurt tomorrow and most likely the next day too. 

It’s rough. 

I love it. 

I hate you. 

I hate them.

I hate everything.

I hate me.

Trying to unpin my hand—  _ Merlin, I think I will die if I don’t touch myself—  _ I lean up to allow enough space to pull it out. Placing your other hand on my back, you push me down. Against the remnants of the curses from this morning, your hands burn, and I let out a yelp I can’t hold back.

Instantly, you retract your hand. For a brief moment, I think I can feel your fingers ghost over the unaffected skin at the edge of one of the wounds, but then your hand is at my shoulder with nails digging into the skin there— so I think nothing of it. I always did have a good imagination. 

Despite being very thin—  _ you don’t eat enough— _ and being shorter than me, you’re stronger. I can feel the strength as you push me into the table.

_ If I pushed off— wanted to stop— would you let me? _

I thrust back in time with your rhythm, and we both moan. I do it again, getting the same result; so I keep doing it. Leaning harder on the arm on my shoulder, you remove your hand from my head and wrap it around my cock. Stroking it in time with your thrusts, you tilt your hips up, and I see stars. 

Five more thrusts and I finish— _hard_— moans sounding more like sobs than anything else. I can feel you inside me; you’re so close. You speed up—it’s violent and chaotic—and in your moans I can hear the pain and rage spilling from you. 

Give it to me. 

Your chaos.

Your sweet melodies. 

All of it.

_ Sing for me; your sin for me, and I’ll dance it out _

Smiling at them, pretending you’re okay, you've put on a mask. Both Granger and Weasley look at you with sad eyes. I’m surprised that Weasley is so comforting. The split must have been her idea. No doubt she couldn’t deal with the feelings— the  _ pain _ — that was left in you, after they took everything. I’m the only one who understands. 

Weasley chose to support you over his sister. I wonder what he’d think if he knew you had been fucking me against the wall in abandoned corridors, then going back to the common room and sweetly kissing her goodnight. 

Granger is the one to first spot me coming, eyes narrowed and nose scrunched up. It’s a warning. Weasley notices, but you don't. He turns to me and glares, his face slowly growing redder. It’s not the cute red of a pretty girl blushing, but the splotchy red of a toddler who is throwing a tantrum with snot and tears all over their face. 

“Malfoy.” It’s another warning.  _ That _ catches your attention, and you turn to me. 

“Potter.” I sneer at you, and the raging void opens up inside me— I can see it reflected in your eyes. Or perhaps it’s not a reflection in a mirror but a window. The same thing inside both of us. Is it wrong that there’s something comforting about seeing it in you too?

“Fuck off, Malfoy.” It’s Granger, which surprises me a little. I didn’t think she knew how to swear. I don’t address her though, not even a glance. 

“Heard you got dumped. Who  _ dumps  _ the Savior ? What reason would she have? Don’t tell me—” I run my eyes over you. The other two are speaking, but I don’t  _ hear _ them, “—you couldn’t get it up?” I give you my best sneer; I can feel your anger— like your magic is expelling it into the air.

You don’t say anything but take two steps and lunge at me. You push hard. It wasn’t like I didn't think you would react. I just didn’t expect this. I fall backwards, putting an arm out to stop me. It doesn’t help as my head still thumps onto the floor with an audible crack. 

Blinking to rid myself of the spots that shoot across my vision, I groan. My head throbs, and my wrist aches— it’s most likely broken. The room is silent; all students that are sitting around us have stopped speaking. 

I just want to lie here in this pain— it’s always you, isn’t it.

That wouldn’t do though.

Sitting up, my vision wavers, and the world feels like it is pulsing; I try to sneer at you again. I feel like I’m going to be sick, and I cradle my wrist in my other hand.

“You know—” I speak, but it doesn't sound like me. Or maybe it does; I can’t hear it over the ringing in my ears, “—I have it on good authority that  _ Sectumsempra  _ is a much more effective way of inflicting pain on someone.” 

_ Is that guilt on your face? _

_ Come on Harry, what are you going to do?  _

Opening your mouth, you take half a step forward— expression unchanged— but Weasley puts an arm in front of you.

“It’s not worth it, mate.” He’s got his eyes trained on me.

Wavering for a moment, it’s almost as if you’re still going to come over, but you turn when Granger tugs on your arm.

_ What were you going to do? _

Bile rises in my throat as the world spins violently. The room is still quiet. I turn to the side and vomit— it’s the only audible sound. My lunch on the floor, I just sit there. There’s no way I can stand up, let alone make it to the hospital wing like this. No one wants to help  _ me _ either.

They hate me.

I hate them.

I hate you.

“Mr. Malfoy?”

Opening my eyes, I see Madam Pomfrey. 

_ Did you send for her, Harry? _

_ Sing for me; your sin for me, and I’ll dance it out _

Fingers wrapped tightly around my wrist— the same wrist you broke hours earlier— you pin my arm to the ground.

_ Is it wrong if I pretend that you’re doing it as an apology? _

Drawing my lip into your mouth, you bite down. It hurts, and your mouth is demanding against mine. Our teeth clash together, and tongues dance. I can taste blood. Is it my lip? Is it yours? Maybe it’s both.

_ We  _ don’t kiss. 

I can count on one hand the times we’ve kissed.

_ Is it wrong if I pretend this is an apology too? _

Whimpering as you wrap your other hand around my cock, I buck my hips and drive you further into me. You synchronize your hand and hips, and it’s so  _ good. _ I can never get enough of this; I might never stop wanting it. And I hate you so much for that. 

You take what you want, and then you leave. Never once saying anything.

But I’m taking from you too. This is as much for me as it is for you.

I’m  _ giving  _ to you, and you to me. 

_ Do you know that? _

I don’t know if I want you to understand that or not. I don’t know what it would mean for this. I push the thought to the back of my mind as you push your cock further into me. 

Will we ever stop? When is the end? When this year is over?

I’m addicted, and I think I’ll drown in it all if we stop.

It’s like we’re playing our favorite song on repeat, over and over again.

_ Sing for me; your sin for me, and I’ll dance it out _

Sitting on the floor of one of the unused corridors in the dungeons, I wait for you. No matter where I am, you can always find me. It’s like a game of hide and seek, but you seem to have a map with a marked path to exactly where I am.

When you round the corner, I stand up. Something flicks across your face.

_ Are you happy to see me? Relieved?  _

But then it’s gone, and I wonder if I imagined it. That’s the logical explanation. 

You hate me.

I hate you.

Then the thought is gone as you grab me by my robes and pull me in. We kiss— if you could call it that. You like to bite and dominate. You’re needy and rough— forceful. We kiss often now. 

_ What changed? _

You turn me to face the wall and tug off my robes, pull our pants down and prepare me. You’re more thorough than you’ve been in quite a while, but it’s still rough. It’s always rough. The fire that spills from inside you consumes us both. It always does. 

Perhaps fuel flows from me, and it turns your fire into a roaring inferno. We could never escape that. Even if I could; I wouldn’t want to. 

Pushing into me, you pin my hands above my head. Breath ghosting across my neck, you thrust again and again. I let you take because I’m taking too. My head lolls to the side, and your mouth is on my neck. They’re not kisses. They’re bites and scratches, and you cover my neck and shoulder with them. 

_ Merlin, _ I want to touch myself. I can feel my cock throb, but your hands are wrapped around mine so tightly that I can’t.

_ If I wanted to stop, would you?  _

I just want to know.

I don’t want to stop. I don’t think I ever will. 

The end terrifies me. Some days, I feel like this is the only thing I live for. This feeling. The only thing left that makes me feel alive. 

I resent you for having this much power over me. 

I hate you.

Wrapping your hand around my cock— something else you’ve been doing more— you sink your teeth into the crook of my neck painfully hard. 

I hate you, but I can’t seem to care.

_ Sing for me; your sin for me, and I’ll dance it out _

Granger tilts her head, and you come into my vision. The library is virtually empty, and it was only by chance that you and your friends sat at a table in my direct line of sight. Granger sat in my way, so I couldn’t see you; but when she moves, I can.

She must have said something particularly funny because you’re looking at her with so much love. Eyes lit up and a broad smile on your face. You look  _ alive. _

And from where I’m sitting, right behind her, it almost looks like you’re looking at me like that. It makes my chest constrict and heart leap. Is there a timeline where you look at  _ me _ like that? 

_ Is it wrong that, perhaps, I would like you to look at me like that? _

I hate you for even making me think that. 

When Granger turns to Longbottom and leans down over his book, you notice me. Our eyes meet, and all of that love slips away, replaced by the raging blaze inside you. I know that I don’t need you to look at me like you do them. 

No one has ever looked at me with as much passion as you do. 

No one has ever made me feel as much passion as you make me feel.

There is no replacement for you— no one but you could make me feel the way I do. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel as alive as I do with you— without you. I want to stay in this loop we’ve fallen into. 

This passion we have, is it endless? 

This symphony of ours, when is the finale?

_ Sing for me; your sin for me, and I’ll dance it out _

I’ve been sitting in the room for thirty minutes. 

_ Harry, what’s wrong? You never take this long. _

I feel like I’m drowning in overflowing doubt.

_ Have we reached our finale and I just didn’t realise? _

I consider leaving; if you’re not going to come there’s no point in being here, but I can’t. This can’t be the end. I need this.

_ We _ need this. 

I know you do. You need it as much as I do; and we both know there is no one that could replace us. This is  _ ours. _

_ So why aren’t you here? _

Fear fills me. The void is filled with terror at the thought that you might not come. I heard it in your words, I saw it deep within your eyes, you needed it today.  _ I  _ need it today. 

The door opens, and I snap my head to it; you step into the empty room. A wave of relief washes over me, and I’m sure it’s visible on my face, because you stop mid-stride with an expression I can’t place. Standing up, I school my features and you turn, lock the door and throw your wand down. 

Do you trust me that much? 

In a second, you’re across the room and pressing our bodies together, your mouth on mine. We never used to kiss, but I don’t know what I’d do if we stopped doing it now. You’re addictive. 

No one can interrupt here, so I rid us of our clothes. We’re almost never fully naked; it’s exposing, but I love seeing your body. It reacts to the tsunami of emotions and passion that explodes out of you when we’re like this.

Reputation and body—you trust me with them both. 

Wand across the room, you lower me to the ground and spread my legs, nails digging into the soft skin there. It stings, but with you  _ everything _ stings; I crave it. We’re both already hard, and you waste no time in preparing me. It’s rough and there are too many fingers too fast, but I trust you. I trust you with my body.

With my soul.

I don’t even know if I trust myself with that. 

I hate that I let you get that far under my skin.

I hate that I care.

I love when you engulf my cock in your hands, like you are doing now. Bucking my hips up into your touch, I feel you align your cock at my entrance and push in hard. It burns; I’m never quite ready, but I like it like that. I want it like that. I  _ need _ it like that. We moan in time, a tune we set ourselves, the only harmony in our symphony of dissonance.

Moving your hands to my shoulders, you pin me down, and my cock throbs with the loss. I move my hands to it instantly, matching my pace with you. Pouring it all into me with every thrust, you lean over, towering above me. All the pain, the rage, the frustration— everything— it’s all written on your face. 

Looking into your eyes, I can see the void staring back. 

Hair stuck to your face, lips slick with our mixed saliva, eyes burning with emotion, you’re beautiful. 

I hate that I think that.

I hate you for making me think that. 

Pumping myself faster, I let my head roll back. Nothing in life has ever felt as good as these moments with you. Your cock filling me up, a hand on my own, letting ourselves go. We can’t do it anywhere else— with anyone else. Does it feel the same for you? Have you started to care about this thing too?

I hate that I  _ care. _

I have to know though. Once the seed had been planted, it started to grow, and now it won’t be satisfied until I find out. 

_ Do you care? _

_ If I want to stop— will you? _

I don’t want to stop.

I will hate myself— hate you— if this ruins this— us.

But I’ll hate us more if I don’t find out.

_ Will you stop? Do you care? Do I matter? _

Removing my hand from my cock, I place both of my hands on your chest; they shake slightly. You don’t seem to notice them, and I don’t know if I have the strength to do it. I don’t know if my soul is strong enough to have this wrenched away from me. 

However, there is no path which we can take where I don’t check. 

I take a deep breath and push firmly. 

Immediately sitting back up right, you pull out and look down at me.

Fear.

Worry.

_ Concern. _

They all shine in your eyes, painted by a master across your face; it engulfs me in your inferno and consumes me. I can’t breath.

It’s a whisper. 

The most gentle and soft your voice has ever been when addressing me. It has  _ more  _ emotion than your moans when we fuck and the spewed swear words and insults we fling at each other.

_ “Are you okay?” _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it.


End file.
